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Nature Poem

At Omana Beach.

The Wind is whistling, Birds are chirping, People talking and leaves moving like a big bunch of thunder that goes by.
Sparkly, Salty water comes onto the hill-topped sand.
Sharp, green grass tickles my feet as I roll down the hill.
Boats go forward and backwards from a very distance.
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My mum

It makes me think that I want to go swimming everyday.
  • At Omana beach
    At Omana beach

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Art learning Story

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My Water Memoir

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The Field is open